"Angel,"
"Just a minute!"
"But –"
"Just a minute, Collins,"
"Angel!"
"Collins, stop!"
Collins rolled his eyes, moving back to sit on the couch, where he'd been waiting for what seemed like hours. She did this every damn time.
Angel had all of four pairs of shoes: her worn, brown, work boots that she only wore when she was out of drag; black shoes that laced around her ankle; pink, knee-high, zip-up boots and black, knee-high, lace-up boots. The black boots were Collins' favourite, and for a moment he lost himself in memories of her wearing them, of him taking them off and what would follow…
Collins shook himself out of his thoughts to peer into their bedroom and see if Angel had made her decision. She hadn't, and he sighed dramatically.
"Not helping, Collins," Angel called from her place in front of the mirror.
Four pairs of shoes, and yet she could never decide which ones to wear. Today the task of choosing which pair was even simpler: not only was she in drag, meaning no work boots, but she was wearing red, so the pink boots were out as well. Now all she needed to decide was black shoes or black boots?
Angel Dumott Schunard could go from sweats and a tank-top to skirts, makeup and a wig in five minutes flat, but ask her to pick her shoes and you'd be waiting for half an hour while she tried on first one pair, then another, back and forth, checking them out in the full-length mirror, trying to decide which pair looked best.
Okay, so maybe Collins was exaggerating, but it sure as hell felt like a half-hour that he'd been waiting today. He'd long since stopped trying to offer his opinion – it didn't speed up the process any, and more often than not, she wouldn't go with his choice anyway. It baffled Collins, how he could watch her dress and put on her makeup so quickly, and then get stumped by her shoes.
"The shoes are the most important part, Collins," she had told him, "They have to be perfect."
Collins figured that if that was the only irritating quirk she had, he was one lucky man. Usually that thought helped him through the wait, but tonight, they were late. Very late. And she was taking an unusually long time choosing between two damned pairs of shoes.
"Angel, baby," he called out, "Mimi's gonna be 21 by the time we get there if you don't hurry up!"
This time, Angel didn't cut him off. Didn't answer at all; simply walked out of the bedroom wearing her black shoes. Collins smiled at her, relieved that she was finally ready. Standing, he moved to her, wrapping his arms around her slim waist and kissing her gently.
"How'd you finally choose?" he asked as he broke away, eyebrow raised, lips curving into a teasing smirk.
Angel giggled and swatted his chest. "I was going to wear the boots, but I didn't want to upstage the birthday girl," she replied with a wink.
Collins chuckled, "Angel, you'd be the star of the show in bare feet," he told her, leaning in for another quick kiss, "In your boots… baby, there ain't no man who could resist that!"
His comment made Angel laugh and she leaned up to whisper in his ear. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Tom Collins." Angel smiled seductively, then turned on her heel and moved to the kitchen. Collins followed, a silly grin on his face.
"You ready to go, baby?" he asked, moving to stand beside her as she sat at the table, "We're already late. Don't really have time to eat."
Angel shook her head at Collins. "I'm not eating, Collins," she said, "I'm finishing Mimi's card." Angel opened the hand-made card, laying it on the table and placing a nickel beside it. She then picked up a pen and began writing.
"What's that for, Angel?" Collins asked, eyeing the nickel curiously.
Angel looked up from her message, gaze shifting from Collins to the nickel. A grin spread across her face as she explained. "It's my lucky nickel. First nickel I ever earned. I was just a kid, and I'd set up a lemonade stand. Worst lemonade you've ever tasted," she admitted, chuckling, "Some guy took pity on me, though. Gave me this," she gestured to the nickel, "Wouldn't even take any lemonade for it."
Collins laughed, imagining a little Angel with a lemonade stand. "And you've kept it all these years?"
"Yeah," she shrugged sheepishly, "Dunno why, I just did. And when I met Mimi, it became a tradition – on our birthday's we give each other the lucky nickel. Just keep passing it back and forth."
Collins nodded. Some of the things that Angel and Mimi did he'd never understand, and usually, it was best not to try. He just chalked it up to being a girl thing. This, though, was actually kind of cute, he thought, that she'd kept her first nickel all this time.
"I just have to finish my little note, then we can go. Okay, honey?"
Collins did his best to hold back a sigh. With Angel, little didn't mean the same thing as it did with everyone else. "Okay, Angel. I'm just gonna go have a smoke, then."
Collins headed out onto the fire escape, lighting a joint and watching the world go by below him. He didn't know how long he'd have to wait for Angel, but he figured she'd be a while. It was only a small card, but he'd learned from experience that Angel could fit a lot of writing into a tiny space.
His thoughts were interrupted as Angel stuck her head out the window. "You ready, Collins?" she asked, waving the card to show him she was done.
"Almost, just give me a minute," he replied. He took a few last puffs, then crushed the joint under his boot and crawled back into the apartment, where Angel was standing, ready to go, holding her hand out to him. He smiled, taking her hand, and they made their way quickly to the loft.
Sliding open the door, the couple was greeted with good-natured teasing about how late they were. Collins was about to make a cheeky comment about Angel's shoe troubles, but before he could get a word out, Angel beat him to it.
"Oh, you know Collins," she began, looking up at him mischievously, "Just when it's time to go, he feels the need to go have a smoke." She grinned broadly, winking at Collins, whose mouth hung open as he stared at her incredulously. The rest of the group giggled, watching the looks that passed between the two.
As Angel began to move into the loft, Collins grabbed her around the waist from behind, pulling her flush against him. Lips close to her ear, he said, voice little more than a growl, "You're gonna pay for that, Miss Angel."
Angel let out a little moan as he nipped her ear, a sexy smile playing on her lips as she broke away from him and began moving toward the birthday girl.
"I hope so."
